


Faux Fur and Glassy Eyes

by HighfalutinTomato



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Attempts at comfort, Crying, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Stuffed animal Mr. Pennycrumb, The siblings are only mentioned except for Klaus, that might be a bit unhealthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighfalutinTomato/pseuds/HighfalutinTomato
Summary: Five finds some semblance of comfort in an unlikely friend. It’s probably a regression, or just a side effect of his time isolated, but it makes him feel less alone. That’s all he wants. Even if it’s not what he needs.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Mr. Pennycrumb
Comments: 5
Kudos: 79





	Faux Fur and Glassy Eyes

He gently touched the soft and fluffy surface of the blanket piled around him, running his hand along it and taking in the feeling. It brought him comfort to feel and had a way of calming him down. It was nice, something he could count on to always feel as such. He could sit wrapped up in it for hours on end, basking in the lovely warmth until he felt like himself again.

But right now, he hated it. He wanted nothing soft and nothing comforting, all he wanted to feel was pain and this was the exact opposite. Klaus had told him to wrap up in his soft and cozy things if he ever felt bad, if he needed them and they weren’t there. But he hated it, he didn’t want it, he wanted to feel bad, he wanted to hurt. He didn’t want them to be here either.

He ripped the blanket from around himself and tossed it across the room, not a tantrum, just an explosion of anger within himself when he couldn’t take it any longer. He was so small, so pathetic, so disgusting. He hated it, hated every second of being the way he was. Always coddled, always looked down upon because he looked so young.

This? The soft and lovely things? They just felt like they further rubbed in that fact, shoved it down his throat until he’d inevitably throw up a storm of rage. It’s not even that he particularly minded being small, or young, it was quite an advantage in fact when he needed it to be. It was moreso his pride that fought it vigorously, that hated it with a passion every time he was taken care of like this. It made him feel weak. He wasn’t weak.

Yet, the other half of him not ruled by pride loved it. Loved being taken care of and feeling the safety and warmth that came with that. But he was a destructive being, a self-destructive being when it came down to it and he had to make a choice between pride and want, or even need. He didn’t know how to push aside his pride and just enjoy things, and at this point he doubted he ever would.

He eyed the innocuous stuffed animal sitting beside him, innocent in all ways and adorable in all the others. With stuffed animals, he felt the least amount of stubborn pride blocking him from enjoying their presence, their comfort. But right now, even they were a problem. He felt childish, he felt weak for needing them at all.

He reached for the stuffed dog that was so beloved by him, gifted to him by Vanya when she found out the effect soft and comfortable things had on him and how it would likely make him feel less alone.

“I’m sorry for getting you into this mess,” he genuinely meant it. His apology for the glassy eyed dog wouldn’t actually reach him, but the gleam in his eyes was all he needed. Even though it meant nothing in all actuality, it meant something to him. Mr. Pennycrumb would never let him feel sorry for that, he appreciated him and that was nice. Even if he was inanimate.

Somehow, this small interaction with Mr. Pennycrumb had managed to calm his enraged temper and peaking ego. He still wasn’t alright, and it was through crumpling up the ideal of his pride that he managed to clutch the soft and small dog to his chest. He buried his face in the golden fur of his dog’s head, unable to keep himself from breaking down and crying into the faux fur.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, Mr. Pennycrumb clutched on top and being used as a rest for his face in his sudden bout of crying. He muttered apologies repeatedly, as if that would somehow atone for his sin of existing in such a troublesome way. With the threats of the apocalypse gone, he was nothing but a burden to his siblings, unable to do much yet because of his apparent age. Maybe he could manage like he had with everything else, force his way into the things he wanted to do. But what even would that be? He didn’t know anymore what he wanted. 

He couldn’t go to anyone, he knew. They’d just worry, and what would he even say? How would he even say it? Just tell them he hated soft things, comfort, hated feeling taken care of and was useless and a burden? They’d feel useless, like they couldn’t do anything to help him and even stop trying to give him the comfort he wanted so badly but couldn’t allow himself to ever have.

He didn’t want them to stop. He knew, with his most stubborn feelings, what he needed most was to push through them, to be pushed through them. But they didn’t know that. They’d back down immediately, because they thought it’s what he needed. It rarely ever was. But he knew, when he actually thought about it, that they couldn’t be expected to dodge and weave his every boundary, to push through the right ones, to even know what the right ones were.

He was too complex, too complicated. Too much of a burden. He’d rather hide away and never let them near him again, all he did was cause trouble and he was so tired of it. He’d find his own way, he always had, he could do it again. Yet, selfishly, he clung to them, despite everything in him saying to leave and get as far away as possible. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to them, and he loved them far too much to leave now.

Maybe that would change, who knows, but for now he was stuck in this endless loop. One he refused to break. He eyed all the objects in the room that could potentially be used as weapons, very keen on releasing his pent up anger at himself. One productive outcome, at least.

A sudden knocking at the door jolted him from his reverie, and he knew his face must be flushed red, the evidence of his crying extremely evident. This was the worst possible time and he knew it wouldn’t clear up fast enough to answer it without suspicion. He cleared his throat quietly, preparing himself.

“What do you want? I’m busy doing important things in here!” he made sure his voice held all the usual arrogance and annoyance as it would in such a situation. Made sure not a hint of tears carried through his voice.

“Aw, come on Five, we’re closer than that. We both know you’re doing absolutely nothing in there important,” Klaus responded, because of course it had to be his most persistent sibling.

“Yes, well it just happens that today I am,” he shot back pointedly, which wasn’t technically a lie. This sobbing session with Mr. Pennycrumb was rather important, and he’d like to be left alone to it. He was about to do something that he’d very much like to not be disturbed for.

“I don’t know about that, Fivey, sounds like you have enough time to talk to me,” he paused and Five could envision the shrug he gave him even through the door, “Must not be that important.” He felt rage boiling under his skin, impatient and wanting nothing more than to be alone with his pain and everything else that was unfortunately wrong with him.

“For once in your life, can you just leave me alone,” he nearly shouted towards the end, irritation and impatience warring with any semblance of maintaining his composure, and winning by a vast amount. There was a long period of silence outside the door where he feared he’d finally fucked up and pushed him too far away.

“Okay. But I’m here if you need anything, Five. I always will be,” he struggled to contain any sounds he might’ve made, breaking down as if on cue into Mr. Pennycrumb’s fur again. Those words hurt, so much. A reminder that he couldn’t go to him, he couldn’t be near him, he couldn’t rely on him. Because he wouldn’t let himself. They were supposed to rely on him, they would rely on him, he’d make sure of it. Not the other way around. Never.

He heard Klaus’ footsteps as he finally left, seeing that he would receive no response to his attempts to reach him. He knew he was hurting him, but he couldn’t stop, there was nothing he could do about it. That would have to be alright. He would have to be alright.

It was all for them that he was doing this. But on another level, he knew it was also a selfish thing he was doing. His pride was so angry at the idea of him being coddled again, yet everything else in him wanted it so much, and he couldn’t allow himself to. Pride and selfishness always won. Or was this selflessness that he wouldn’t allow himself to break through the barriers pride presented, for fear of burdening them?

He didn’t know, and he didn’t really care either. All he needed was Mr. Pennycrumb. He’d been alone before with only an inanimate object for company, he could do it again. He pulled away from his fur, staring into his empty eyes. 

“Thank you for this. I appreciate it,” no response. He smiled gently at the animal anyways, clinging desperately to him as his last and only reprieve from everything.

It was almost nice

**Author's Note:**

> I have a taste for angst, don't I? Lmao oops-
> 
> Also posted on my tumblr, deadliest-little-thing


End file.
